Half-Blind Justice
Part 1- May 13, 1017 The usual peaceful sound of flowing water within the great hall was drowned out by Commander Volgin and Captain Warren Starr's argument. Back and forth they spat insults and questioned each other's resolve. Tyr Adeptus, the longest standing Consul, yelled over the men from atop his golden throne but they gave no notice of him. Freya sat patiently as the men threatened to rip each other to pieces. Froig was absent, recovering from a bout of summer fever. The other Marshals and Imperious collected their gear and notes before making their way from the room. The meeting had been a long and tedious affair. Even longer considering none has eaten since the previous day, so this rekindled argument between the two hot-blooded leaders effectively ended the civil discussion of Arn's future. Dorthea Hall rubbed her temples as she exited the great hall; Volgin was her Commander and she was honored to serve him as an Imperious but his tirades proved to be the quickest path to a headache. "He is a man of great passion." A gruff voice spoke from beside her. She looked down to see Jerviss the Great, a portly, aged dwarf of the Imperious of Opal Shore. "That he is." Dorthea responded as she began walking down the corridor with Jerviss. "However, passion can lead even the greatest men astray." He plodded along next to her, huffing slightly as he kept pace. "And what about the greatest women?" "A great woman's passion can also lead men astray." She chucked as they reached a break in the hallway. The two stopped and looked to each other. "Well said Dorthea, just don' go thinking that passion can sway the stout heart of the Ironborn." His smile was hardly visible under his bushy grey beard. "I would never dream of it." She returned a smile. "If I wanted your affection I would need to mine the largest gem Lancerus has ever seen and even then I am not certain it work." "Har har har!" Jerviss let out a deep, hearty laugh, "You are not mistaken to question it's success. Why the sight of such a gem would capture my heart for it alone; even turning me from one so beautiful as you." The old dwarf looked gruff but his heart was as gold as the armor he wore. "Now do not go getting soft on me. You are going to be a Warden soon, cannot have the prisoners thinking you have the capacity for kindness." "I would not fret." The Dwarf became very grim as he spoke. "My kindness ends with those who would seek to poison these lands." "Then it is a good thing we have chosen the path of cleansing those poisons." Dorthea too became grim. Both reflected on the words of Freya from the meeting as they stood in silence for a moment. Bandits....pirates....murdered nobles...........forsaken........ So much had changed in the last few years and to Dorthea it seemed like Arn might never recover. Jerviss spoke first after a moment, "Tis a good thing indeed, you serve well and the people are safer for it." He placed his hand on her arm. "I hope to see you again soon my friend and please give me best to yer boy." Dorthea placed her hand on his shoulder, "Thank you Jerviss, I will..." She wanted to say more but the words failed to leave her mouth. "Honor and Justice." He spoke the code of the Imperious. "Honor and Justice." She replied. She watched for a few moments as he plodded down the hallway before turning down the opposite hall to go see Camillus. --- Dorthea arrived at Camillus' chambers. He resided in small room deep within the lowest level in the capital building of Autumn City. The room had originally been a storage pantry but was given to Camillus when he refused to stay in the medical ward. Dorthea took a deep breath and knocked on the door. "Cam?" There was no answer. She knocked again. "Camillus please open the door, it's me." Still no answer but there was hushed shuffle heard inside. So many times she had come to see him before but to avail; in ten months he not opened the door once, he simply accepted his food through a small slot on the bottom of the door. Please let me see him today. Do not let me lose him too. ''Dorthea prayed to Kalyar to return her son's life. Suddenly the sound of locks tumbling came from behind the door and it was opened to a small crack. Dim candle light came from inside and the stale smell of rotted food and urine radiated from the open sliver. Dorthea wiped a tear from her eye and pushed the door open to walk inside. The odor seemed to be the least of the problems within the room: Stacks of books and loose papers littered the room, decorated with a variety of half eaten meals, long past ripe, and jars of unknown mixtures. Lit and burnt out candles dripped wax over most of the stacks, the latter left in the spots where they had died out. The bed was pushed up against the wall, broken and covered in wax. Small wooden statues and figures bound with string were scattered about with similar drawings and carvings upon the walls Dorthea strained her eyes to find her son in the mess as she walked in. The door was quickly shut behind her. Camillus moved from behind it to refasten the locks. He hastily re-latched the multiple locks then rushed over to a small table in the corner opposite the door. Sitting down he turned away from her and said nothing. His usual dapper, clean cut appearance had been replaced with unkempt hair, a thin scraggly beard and soiled clothing; he had not seen a proper wash in many months. The sight of him almost brought her to tears. She went to speak but again her words failed, she could only look on at the shell of her son. She moved to him slowly, careful to step on the few parts of the floor she could see. She came within arms reach yet he still sat facing away from her, still as stone. "Camillus please look at me." She spoke, laying a hand on his shoulder. The touched seemed to burn him, he shuddered out of her reach, almost falling from the chair he jumped up and went to sit in another chair beside his upturned bed. Before she could speak again the glint of something gold caught her eye from where he had sat. Upon the table top Camillus' Marshal pin rested alone. She picked up the pin and reflected on how dead he had seemed when they brought him home; his skin pale and clammy right eye socket red and raw with the good eye staring blankly at the sky. He had not greatly improved since then. The tears came without her bidding. Toying the pin in her hand she looked to Camillus with blurry eyes. He was staring at her now, hair covering where his right eye had been. Wiping tears from her eyes she met his stare. His good eye seemed to look through her and beyond to a far off land. "I cannot get his face out of my head." He spoke at length, fidgeting in his seat and rubbing his hands together. "The heat...the smell..." He stood and began pacing. Dorthea moved again to him, this time she gabbing him by the arm with force. "Please Camillus, I want to help you." Her insides twisted with nausea both from concern and from his overwhelming body odor. "Come with me to the Sept; today is a day to reflect on that which we have been spared. Come pray with me, let Kalyar's strength be yours." He said nothing and looked away from her. He pulled from her grasp to sit again at the table across the room. He replied to her but only in a quote, "'If your goals require solitude then lock yourself away...'" "You have had your solitude," She was becoming more and more frustrated, ''You let me in only to give me more heartache. "You have had plenty. 'Remember the hardships you have overcome.' Do not forget who taught you the words of the Sojourn." Camillus produced a small knife and began carving another symbol of unknown origin in the table. "The Sojourn..." He stabbed the knife into the table. "The Seven are gone; they have forgotten you, forgotten me...they have left us here to burn and squirm." His words were weak and defeated. "You are a fool to forget Their way my Son." She had composed herself even though the blasphemy enraged her inside. "They have not forgotten you. Come to the Sept, take Kalyar's blessing today and feel the life within yourself." A tear fell down her cheek but went unnoticed by Camillus. "I have been a fool for less..." He took the knife out of the table and began to carve again. Dorthea could no longer stand to see her son like this, her body and mind were exhausted and she felt faint. She turned and made for the door. She unfastened the locks, which greatly unnerved Camillus. Opening the door wide she spoke, not looking at him. "Your father would not wish his only son to waste away, alone and afraid." She placed the Marshals pin on the ground in the open doorway and left. Camillus quickly ran to the door and shut it, latching the locks but stopped before finishing. Slowly he un-latched them and opened the door. He stared down at the pin for what felt like an eternity. With a deep breath he picked up the pin and returned inside. Part 2- July 31, 1017 Tell them the world of the Seven will burn; The Goth will be risen. Camillus opened his eye. The familiar must of his chambers was soothing as the sweat cascaded down his face. Just another dream. ''He thought rubbing the sleep from his eye. His back ached and his head hurt; the still soft patch of skin on his face was burning slightly and his side tingled with a strange sensation. He had fallen asleep in the chair last night, or was it last morning? He had lost sense of time in the deep dark of his self imposed dungeon. He rose shakily from the chair, wiping the sweat from his brow, and lit a few candle nubs around the room. The One-Armed Man stared at Camillus from the chair he had just risen from but the maimed Marshal ignored him, as he had grown accustom to doing. After lighting the last candle Camillus went to the long untouched wardrobe in the corner. He shed his crusty, worn garments and let them fall to the floor in a rigid pile. ''Today. ''He thought. ''It must be today... Swinging the wardrobe open sent dust raining over the room. He looked inside for something comfortable but more importantly, something that he could hide under. All his old clothes seemed foreign to him, the feel, the color, even the smell; it was as if he was looking into another man's life. The grey leggings were loose (much more than he remembered) and did not sit well on his hips and the black tunic hung like wet cloth off his bony shoulders. He cast those to the ground on top of his others and looked some more. Finally he settled on an old pair of black pants with a decent fit and a sleeveless leather over coat that fell to his knees, fastened with a thick belt. Lastly, he threw a brown cloak over his left shoulder and wrapped a length of cloth around his head to cover his right eye socket. Undoing the latches seemed to take him a lifetime and more than once he had almost decided to abandon his mission and stay inside. He gripped the pin in his pocket as he undid the final lock. The clank of the tumblers hit his chest and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Shaking, Camillus bent over and heaved up a smelly mix of mostly fluid with bits of half digested bread. He gripped the door handle to steady his shaky legs as he spit and fought back more retch; he trembled every time the sensation hit him. Coughing he pulled himself up and wiped the drool from his mouth. Today. ''The thought repeated in his head. ''You promised it would be today. With a deep breath he was off. The door left open behind him and The One-Armed Man watching as he went. The halls were strange and more than once Camillus got turned around; it had been so long since he walked the halls of the capital, nothing seemed familiar. Eventually he found the great hall and much to his joy, he found it empty. From there he traced an old memory and soon found the eastern exit. His first step from the building was easy but quickly his fear returned and he stood, shocked and ready to turn back. You must go farther. ''He thought. The One-Armed Man stared at him from across the street. ''You must go farther or we will never be rid of him. Camillus pulled up his hood and stepped into the crowd. It was busy this time of day. Once his eye had adjusted Camillus risked a look at the sun; he judged it was still an hour off from midday so it was no surprise the streets were a bustle. He eyed each person carefully as he passed along the large buildings of the Autumn District. A privileged area, to say the least, the Autumn District housed the richest and most influential politicians and soldiers of Autumn City, with a healthy serving of the wealthiest merchants and traders in all the south of Lancerus. The district had once been the original Autumn City, built by the elves in the First Age. Must be why they carry themselves like royalty, Camillus thought, though he had once dreamed to be one of them, once... Almost at the cities north most point Camillus came to the Sept of Josec; no small structure it made each building around it a dwarf, the Sept's highest point must have been nearly four hundred feet. A man was preaching at its steps as men and women moved in and out for prayer and worship. "....High Penance is near! Remember the words of the Sojourn 'each man and woman must search inside themselves and atone for the sins that burden them the most.' What burdens you most?" It took Camillus a moment to realize the man was speaking to him. The crowd around him was staring and Camillus caught sight of The One-Armed Man among them. He did not smile, nor speak, only stared, gazed on Camillus with those cold eyes. With a quick step he rush off down the street, the preacher's word trailed behind him. "You cannot run from the Godswalk! Fill you heart with their light as we fill the halls of the Sept with music!" Camillus was quickly out of earshot so he eased back to a walking pace. Looking around, his one-armed foe was nowhere in sight. He was somewhat relieved to see the city so alive with happy people but more than anything it made him mad. How do they not know? He cursed their happiness but felt bad for doing so. This is too much. ''Camillus panicked. ''How can no one see? There is evil coming for you! Can you not see it!?! His temperature was rising and his hands trembled. I need to get back. ''Was all he could plan but he did not know how, he could not think. With no destination Camillus took off through the crowd. He bumped and threw his way through the moving labyrinth before him to the disgruntled shouts of "Hey!" and "Fucker!" One man even attempted to grab Camillus but the one-eyed runner knocked him away, planting a hard left backhand to the man's jaw. ''The Goth will be risen!!! He could not remember how he got there but Camilllus found himself sitting down inside a tavern with a mild crowd. A young woman asked him a question from a table over but he was so dazed the words had been as faint as a whisper. "Excuse me?" "I asked if you were alright." Her voice was a soft as her lips looked. "So, are you?" Camillus was stunned; she was stunning, even dressed in such common wears, and seemed genuinely concerned. He felt almost whole again for a moment but then he saw the One-Armed Man standing at the bar, staring him down. Gods be dammed. "Ah, yes." Camillus said, shifting uncomfortably to turn his bad eye away from her. "My apologies but you do not look so." She scooted closer to get a better view of his bad side. "Were you a soldier?" Inquisitive girl. ''"No." He answered too curtly. She smiled a sly smile that made Camillus' heart skip; he could see the wheels turning in her mind. He almost smiled. "Were you in an accident?" ''It was no accident. ''Camillus thought. "Something of the sort" He responded turning to face her. ''No sense hiding any longer, but why her? Her face betrayed her interest to decode the vague answer. "Only some?" She took a drink and finished with a smile. "Then it could have been no accident at all." She scooted even closer. "it is not often one lose a part of themselves on accident." She actually seems to care. But why? "It was no accident." He removed his cloak and placed it on the chair beside him. "I lost my eye'' doing my ''duty." She almost shouted, "So you were a soldier!?" Some how Camillus had missed it but she was now sitting at his table and nearly beside him. "Did you fight against the rebellion?" "No...no...I..." He panicked, "I was a man of the Law." Stop talking, you do not even know her. Her fascination was evident, he could see the questions race through her and she smiled wide at him. "That is amazing! What was it like?" She pushed the wine jug toward him. "Is it scary? Have you been to Larkenvale? Or even Gildor?" Camillus looked over to the One-Armed Man who now sat at a table in the far corner. His eyes unblinking. "A man will die in battle or a man will die at home. How many of them will make the destinations one in the same." Camillus could not think and responded with a quote from the memoirs of his great, great, great grandfather Bernad Hall. Camillus had spend hours in the library at Ýgrisil but this was the first time in months he had recollected anything he had learned. Grand timing... Camillus looked to the girl as he set the wine jug down, she now looked unsettled. I did not mean to scare you....you do not know. He did not know why but he felt bad. Was it because she was so sweet or perhaps because she was the first person he actually felt like talking with. "I am sorry." He began, afraid and excited all at once. "You must forgive me, I...I have been away from people for a while, and I have only just returned this morning." ''Where did that come from? ''He thought, strangely please with himself. "No forgiveness required my good sir." Her curiosity peeked again and she offered her jug of wine. He waved her off but she must have not notice for she shoved the jug into his hands forcing him to catch it as she released. "But now, as payment, you have to finish that whole jug with me." She raised her cup and smiled again, brushing some of her wavy dark hair over one ear. "Welcome back, my good sir Law." Camillus looked around the Tavern but The One-Armed Man was nowhere to be found. He raised the jug. "It is good to be back." The two drank together long into the night and for the first time in ages Camillus laughed at a joke and shared a smile with a friend. Category:Character lore